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Christmas 1799
Aziraphale drug a chair from his new dining set to the counter where his new cash register gleamed brightly. He had bought the set- table and two chairs- just for this day. The bookshop opened in little more than a week and he had been working furiously to get everything perfect. Today, however, was Christmas Eve, or the Feast of Adam and Eve, and he wanted to spend it with Crowley. Where the days before had been sorting and filing books, moving around his treasured statues, and preparing for the big day, today was set aside for cooking and decking the halls. He’d worked on a lovely meal: the minced pies and pudding were finished yesterday, and he had run out midday to grab the venison from the bakers. The kitchen in the bookshop was not large enough to accommodate all of the meal, but the turtle soup had just finished, the roasted vegetables were nearly done and a bowl of Wassail was cooling. Certainly, there would be no fowl served tonight!
Aziraphale had placed his first yule log with its pretty little bow in the fireplace. He had burned a log earlier in the day but was willing to go without since to make sure this one they could light this one together. For all of the Christmases (and Feast of Adam and Eve ! ), they had shared, this would be the first in their bookshop.
Not that it was theirs. Aziraphale’s name was the only one of the title. But in choosing a name, he made sure that the world would know. A.Z.Fell & Co. It was as good of a declaration as there could be. He didn’t think Heaven or Hell would figure it out, but he would know, and that was enough.
He looked around and grabbed the other end of the garland to hand up along the soffit. He was nearly ready, just a few more touches. Aziraphale had no problem buying a bundle of greenery, but the tree proved more difficult in modern times.
Two hundred years ago, it had been easy to get a tree, decorate it with apples, and watch children perform their passion plays around it. Crowley always rolled his eye saying that the Eden was closed by mid-October. After the Feast Day was banned under Cromwell, Aziraphale moved to a simple decorated branch. But he wanted to set a new tradition in their bookshop.
The bookshop.
The bookshop.
He had paid entirely too much for the tree and it certainly was not the prettiest, but he had found some baubles to put on it since apples were terribly out of season. And instead of using real candles, he miracled sparkles in the branches. There was only one thing left to hang.
The mistletoe.
As long as they had been in England, just as it had been in Rome, mistletoe was hung over the entryway. When they had first encountered it, going to get oysters, it meant a peace, a protection over the dwelling of sorts. In England, had been used for keeping away demons and witches! Which Crowley always laughed at because it clearly didn’t work to ‘keep this demon away’.
He stood looking at the mistletoe in his hand.
He had kept some for years, as the tradition, over the front of the door of wherever he was for Christmas. Crowley laughed every time he entered.
This year, however, he had a separate piece. The traditions around mistletoe had changed. No longer just a symbol of of luck and good omens, it was now for men to select whichever woman he chose to kiss. She could refuse, but bad luck would befall her.
Aziraphale blushed as he stepped on the chair to hang it from the second-floor soffit just under the rotunda balcony. He placed it in the center of some of the green trimmings and garland, using a red bow to hide where it attached. Certainly, it would not worked to keep Crowley away. And there were no women under it he wished to kiss…. But it had come with the other greenery he bought and he wanted to be extra festive this year.
He moved the chair back to its place and straightened it…. Nervously awaiting his… Crowley.
Just then the bell rang and he spun around.
“Hello Aziraphale!” Crowley exclaimed, carrying a bottle of wine and an armful of presents.
“What, what do you have…”
“Well, I figured we missed a few Christmas’ along the way and I probably owed you some back presents. “
“Oh, I only got you...,” his smile withered as he looked at the wrapped box with a very special book underneath the tree.
“Not to worry, Angel, I’m sure half of these contain something we can eat, so it will be like a present for both of us, really. Whot Angel! You found a Paradise tree!”
“Well, I had one brought in. I felt like, this was a special Christmas and we no longer celebrate Adam and Eve Day.’’
“Because that happened in October, we talk about this every year…” Crowley was admiring the little baubles on the tree. The angel’s hands began to work on his vest.
“Yes but, it’s sort of a celebration of us, really. Of the day we first saw each other on Earth…”
“In October, Azirphale…”
“Yes, yes, I know!” There was a small frustration in the angel’s voice, but enough for the demon to turn his head.
“It’s just, it reminds me of that and, we used to put the little tree with the apples on it and that reminds me of that. And I thought it would be a nice, nice gesture….” The demon turned and walked towards the angel.
“It’s lovely, Aziraphale. Very pretty, hadn’t seen one in years and it looks lovely.” Azirphale’s face lit up, the smile that he used when he was particularly pleased with himself shown.
Oi! What is that smell?”
“Oh, just a little something I whipped up for us, it’s almost ready. I have a Yule log in the fireplace as well.”
“ A 1770 La Romanée?” Crowley offered the bottle to Aziraphale over his arm as if it were a sword.
“Oh Crowley! That is perfect. Let me get the glasses.” Aziraphale collected his Waterford Crystal, glad to christen it with the wine. Crowley removed his glasses and put them next to a horse statue on a table.
“How many Christmases have we spent together?”
Together.
Crowley made it seem like, they had… that they were… Aziraphale shook his head and replied over his shoulder,
“Besides the first, oh, I don’t know… certainly a few hundred.” He deftly popped the cork and began pouring.
“Is that…. Did you hang a mistletoe?”
“Oh, I’ve always had one over my door! It’s never kept you out before…” he nervously chuckled.
“No, not that one, I know about that one. I meant,” and he pointed to the one that Aziraphale had just placed before he arrived. “that one, that mistletoe. Hanging just right of your registrar. You’ve never hung one indoors before.”
“Yes… ummm, I believe it is.” Aziraphale returned the cork snuggly in the bottle, not wanting to turn around.
“Why did you put it up?” But before Aziraphale could answer, Crowley asked again, quieter, “Who have you had over?” It was not accusatory just sad.
“Oh no one, I mean,... no one other than you.” Aziraphale blushed and took a huge drink of wine as he handed Crowley his glass. The demon continued to look up at the mistletoe confounded. Aziraphale looked at the ground as Crowley cocked his eyebrow and squinted at the mistletoe
“It was… it came with the rest of the trimmings.”
“Un-hun”
“And so I hung it, because, well, it was part of the package….matching ribbon and all.” Crowley looked from the mistletoe to Aziraphale before he spoke.
“You’ve had trimmings before, but you’ve never had,” and Crowley pointed as he spoke, “that.” Aziraphale stammered but Crowley continued.
“Angel, who… did you, are you courting someone?” This was not at all what Aziraphale had anticipated.
“Oh No! No. There’s nothing like, I’ve never had… I just, just hung it a moment before you arrive!” Crowley raised an eyebrow, then looked back at the offending plant, slowly creeping towards it.
“Then why now?” Aziraphale’s face grew hot as Crowley’s voice grew desperate.
“No one, there is no one. It was just… it’s silly. I thought- ..festive!! No, hmmm, I’ll just take it down, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Aziraphale moved to get the chair. Crowley saw the upset, upset that he hadn’t meant to cause, he was just..he thought maybe. But before he could calculate what was happening, Aziraphale was up, removing it as Crowley was still processing.
“Sorry, just silly. Oh! I think the vegetables are done.” Aziraphale responded with a high pitch in his voice. He placed it next to the new register and returned the chair before making for the kitchen upstairs. Crowley continued to look at where it had hung, at the mistletoe, at the upset angel.
“Angel, I’m…. I didn’t mean….”
“No, No, it’s fine, just going to check on the venison…. vegetables! The … vegetables… brussels sprouts and all.” Aziraphale began to beat himself up before he was properly on the second-floor landing.
“Stupid Angel, silly to put it up… what did you think was going to happen?” he muttered when he heard Crowley behind him. He started, hoping he wasn’t heard and the vegetable pan seared his hand. “Oh! Stupid!” In an instant, the demon removed the pan and seized hold of the angel’s hand in his. He placed his other over it, the burn instantly healing.
“Thank you,” but he couldn't look at Crowley because he was still looking at his hand lying in the demon’s.
“You didn’t have to take it down on account of me.” They stood there for a minute, holding hands before Crowley realized what Aziraphale was looking at. He pulled his away gently before he asked if Aziraphale needed help bringing the food down.
“Angel? ” his voice was unusually high, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did you put the mistletoe up for me?” Aziraphale felt like he was going to miss the last step and land on his face.
“Well, it, it came in the greenery and, I wanted to decorate for you, ‘er the shop for Adam and Eve…ah, so that…you know… festive!” He wondered if he could add another thousand steps between the stairs and the table so that he didn’t have to turn and face Crowley.
“Angel…”
“ I thought it would be a nice touch,” Aziraphale put down the pan and turned to take the venison from Crowley’s hands without looking at him, "and the bow on it matched the other bows, and the bow on the top of the tree.”
“Angel.” He placed the platter, clenched his jaw, and finally turned to face Crowley.
“It’s nice.”
“No, it’s it was silly,” he shakes his head with a slight frown.
“It’s nice, Aziraphale. It’s thoughtful, well planned, matches the rest of the decorations.” Aziraphale looked up and realized how close they were standing, looking at each other, really looking. Crowley’s eyes were mesmerizing. Maybe they would make more of an appearance in the safety of the bookshop.
“You think?” He knew how hopeful he looked. It wasn’t that he needed Crowley’s approval, but, he had decorated for him, had made the dinner, and bought the tree to make this special for them. He just couldn’t say it.
“Yes, yes,” Crowley gestured towards the previously offending mistletoe, “it’s a shame to not hang it with the rest. Here,” and he left their closeness to go back to the ingress. He snapped on the way there and a step stool appeared just as he put his foot up. He turned at the top and put his hand out. Aziraphale walked as if in a trance, picking up the mistletoe and taking the bottom step. Their fingers grace each other as the angel placed it in his hand. Crowley hung it right back where it belonged. Aziraphale stepped off and Crowley held out a hand as he walked down the three steps. The angel knew he didn’t need it, but he offered his anyway to steady the very graceful demon. Crowley pushes the stool away and looked at his handy work.
“Come on, come stand under it.” Aziraphale played with the hem of his waistcoat, the same hands that had just touched Crowley’s.
“There’s no point, really. No pretty young girls…”
“No, no, I bet you look lovely standing right under it, come on.” Crowley walked towards the angel, took him by the hand, and led him right underneath. Crowley halted, with an appraising eye and tilted his head back. " Hmm, your tie is…” and both went to fix it. Aziraphale put his hands down, letting Crowley straighten the tie.
“There, better. Right, let’s, ” he stepped back a few paces and shook his head, “No, no, that bow is all wrong.” Aziraphale put his hands up to his neck but realized the demon was talking about the bow above him. Crowley closed the space, grabbing the stool as he went. He jumped up it quickly, his stomach now at Aziraphale’s line of sight. A slight blush rose while Crowly fixed the bow to his satisfaction. He stepped down, removed the stool, and joined the angel just below, looking at the mistletoe from underneath.
“Right, there it is. See Angel, not silly at all.”
“No?” And Crowley shook his head still marveling at the now welcomed mistletoe. Aziraphale took a step closer, trying to see exactly what the demon saw.
“Nope, s’perfect.”
“It is?” But the angel couldn’t find the perfection in it, it looked no different than it had moments ago when it was offensive.
“Yep, just like you.”
The angel’s head snapped down to see Crowley still looking up, speaking to the mistletoe. He felt his face go red and Crowley swallowed deeply. He finally looked down with a heartwrenching smile, one the angel had only seen when he tended to small children who were dying or women who were in need. He took a deep breath.
“Merry Christmas, Angel.” Crowley tried to smile a real smile, but there was something in him that had broken and the angel didn’t understand it.
“Merry Christmas, dear.”
They stood there for what could have been a moment or a year, looking at each other. Crowley couldn’t say what he wanted to, and Aziraphale couldn’t have his kiss. And so this moment was all they could share, hoping that the other could understand, would be able to know that had things been different, if circumstances had changed or they happened to wake up in another universe where they were not hereditary enemies then maybe this wouldn’t be all there was. There could be kisses and hugs and proper hand-holding and love.
But they lived on Earth. And the circumstances were exactly as they were. And this moment was all they could have now and maybe forever. Fleeting, gone in a flash, so very much human.
*****
She had walked through the ether alone. He was nowhere to be found, not this time. She stood at the beach, the expanse of sand, watching the most beautiful sunrise she had ever seen. What was more amazing, is that it wasn’t even supposed to be a sunrise at all. It was not supposed to appear here for another three hours, And yet, beyond all likelihood, against odds of time, space, and physics, here it was.
They had never spoken about it. There was no official deal made. It was probably cruel to the both of them, but at the moment, fleeting, gone in a flash, she felt vindicated for feeling rage, abandoned, and betrayed.
But those two had felt none of those things. All they felt was love. For her, for the other angels, but moreover for each other. They weren’t jealous, they were perfectly content with what they had, whenever they could have it. They didn’t have the gnawing need for more, the want to own and control. There was no power struggle, they were equal and balanced, as if each were a part of a whole. If they went long spans of time without seeing each other, they still loved, still cared, understood, and were grateful for the few encounters they had.
Maybe, maybe she was a little envious. Who were those two to get it so right, so easily, so quickly but she and he, they could not figure it out. They fought and yelled and hurt so much. Since she was hurt, maybe they had to hurt, too. Not fair to her, or him. Not fair to watch that perfect love right in front of you for eternity when you felt like…. this.
But against all of the odds, here it was. This perfect beautiful sunrise. The angel’s punishment had been to be sent to Earth, so she didn’t have to see his tears, ones she inflicted. And the demon, the one who still looked so handsome, magically got sent to the garden, too. But things were different now, now they were no longer equal, not so balanced. Instead of parts of a whole, they were opposites, foils to pay off of each other.
I see his move, she thought, but I will win. The angel is pure and his perfect love for me and Heaven will not change. And the demon, the tempter who corrupted my Eden? How could an angel love that? She hadn’t banked on the demon being kind, of his creativity and wit, of his charm, and the fact that deep down, even though he was a demon who fell and fell, damaged and broken, he was still so completely full of love. And she hadn’t recognized that the angel was very intelligent, keenly aware that the party line was just that, a line, one he could carefully straddle for years to reach out to the demon he still so loved.
But against all odds, there they were. They had managed to revolve around each other for six thousand human years. They remained balanced, even on opposite sides. Somehow, ripped apart, punished, thrown down, and shamed, and still, there was perfect love. She didn’t have to look, she knew. She could feel it every time those two were near to each other, and even when those two were away.
They had never spoken about it. There was no official deal made. But she knew what this meant. The rage had left years ago, the envy, all of it. What was left was sadness, loneliness, emptiness. She would push for the angel to come home, remove him from his post, and separate them again from this perfect moment they were sharing. But this was the last time she would try, she told herself.
They had never spoken about it. There was no official deal made. But the unofficial one was there. It stood looming over her. That if they can do it, if they could work through this, find each other, still love after everything,.... Then…. Why couldn’t we? He wanted it so badly. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t. But…. but those two were an angel and a demon, separated cruelly across the expanse of the earth, one torn into two. And they were…. They were different…they were a god and a devil-hurt, broken, tired, empty, separated cruelly across the expanse of the earth. So very different, really….very….
She would push for the angel to come home and have the demon’s file removed so he couldn’t see it. Separating again, even though she knew it would only ever be temporary…somehow they always found a way.
The sunrise was so beautiful, reds and yellows exploding across the expanse of the sky, surrounding a beautiful white dot. Beyond all likelihood, against her wishes, here they were, again, still, shining on her, filling her with love.